Make Me Feel Alive
by ButcheredAngel
Summary: After the events of Before I Disappear. Gideon shows up to Richie's apartment, high and on a mission. They talk about the events that transpired between them and it creates an unexpected bond over suicide and wanting to feel alive. (Gideon/Richie)


I don't know what this is, but after watching Before I Disappear for the tenth time just felt like I needed to write a scene between Richie and Gideon. So this is what came up from my randomness. Enjoy :)

Make Me Feel Alive

 _Dear Vista,_

 _Today I wanted to stay. And I feel like shit for it, but I do. I miss you Vista, I really do but my niece and my sister makes me want something different. Something new…._

Richie paused as a loud bang echoed in his small flat, able to hear it over the party going on in the hallway. He considered ignoring it but it continued, making him antsy. He glanced over at the red water, and back at the door wondering if this was all a hallucination. Except he wasn't on menopause medication, suffering from blood loss or on a date with flora.

He put his pen down, taking a few steps toward the door, the banging continuing, more violent and urgent. He peeked through the peep hole only to stare back at a baby blue.

"Richie Richie, I know you're in there"

Gideon.

His blood went cold as he surveyed the gangster, now pacing about the hallway, clearly half out of his mind. When wasn't he?

The last time they'd spoken, it was a week ago, and he was being kicked out of a car close to the precinct that held his sister. With a gun in his hand, and death in his eyes.

"Richie, please"

It was the quiet softness in his voice that made him survey the hallway again, seeing the man leaning against his doorway, a hand through his hair.

He did owe this man his sister's freedom after all.

He pulled back the chain, undid the three locks and opened the door an inch, only to pushed aside, as Gideon stormed inside, his two bodyguards, Devon among them taking place outside the door, nodding at him before turning around, facing the hallway.

He was pushed aside as Gideon closed the door, pulling the chain, and locking the door.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, eyes darting from Gideon's pockets and waistband looking for a gun, to the red water.

"Thought I'd stop by, and see how you were. You look better. How's your sister?" Gideon smiled at him, though it turned manic as the man continued to pace about in front of him.

"Good, thanks, by the way," He mumbled, baffled by the whole exchange.

"Good, good. That's what my lawyer said too." Gideon nodded, looking around before settling on the bathtub and his red phone next to it. "It was nothing, really."

Gideon was visibly twitching, and then he proceeded to pace, going toward the bed, and back, taking out a small bag of heroine, tapping a thin line onto his thumb, and snorting it. "Fuck look what you saw last week, you can't say shit. I know you haven't so far, and I appreciate it. The police aren't looking for me, and Bill's men have agreed to join my operation but still. He had some loyal guys, and they're pissed. So just shut up about it, pretend it didn't fucking happen and we're good," Gideon rambled on, grabbing hold of his shoulders, his face inches from his own. "Got it Richie? I can trust you right? I can trust you."

"Of course," He nodded vigorously, terrified of the demon that lurked in Gideon's eyes.

"Good, good, I know Richie. I know," Gideon mirrored his nodding, giving him a small smile. "I appreciate the discretion. For that, just let me know what you want. A job? Done. Pills. Done. Name it."

"I'm good thanks. I should probably step away from the whole scene anyway."

"Good. Good. Yeah," Gideon had a far away look as he pulled away, stalking toward his kitchenette. "Got any booze?"

"I don't drink much, but there might be a half bottle of vodka in the cupboard by the fridge," He gestured toward the cupboard, Gideon proceeded to pull it open, riffling through his cans, pulling out a clear bottle.

He wasn't sure to do with himself as Gideon made himself at home, finding a coffee mug, pouring himself a generous amount of alcohol before coming back toward him, only to fall to the ground next to his bed, leaning against the frame as he knocked the liquor back. "How do you do it?"

"Hm" He'd almost missed Gideon's question, his voice just a whisper.

"With your girlfriend. Vista was it?" Gideon nodded to himself. "She overdosed didn't she? That's what people say,"

His stomach went into his throat as he inhaled, feeling his lungs almost ablaze as she flashed through this mind. In the bed of his old apartment. Needle in her arm. Note in her hand. Eyes open, distant. And cold, so cold. And lifeless.

The anguish was still raw, even after all these months.

"Yeah," It was the only thing he could say, as he came toward Gideon, taking a seat next to him.

"How do you deal with it?" Gideon asked.

His eyes wandered back to the red water. "I quit the drugs,"

"Don't you wish they'd just fucking take you away?" Gideon mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. "Take it all away."

He knew exactly what he meant. "Sometimes. If you asked me a week ago, I'd agree with you. But sometimes you find something to live for."

He glanced over at Gideon who was still staring absentmindedly at the roof, taking a slow sip from his coffee mug. "I don't have neice. Or a sister. Or a family. Except my friends. My clients. People who only give a fuck about me because I run this business. Because I can supply them with anything they fucking need. I have an empire, but no one to share it with."

He didn't know what possessed him, but he placed his hand on Gideon's shoulder comfortably. "I'm sorry Gideon."

"She was my fucking world." Gideon sighed, wrapping his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in closer. "Bill never did tell me what he did with her body. I fucking killed him."

That epiphany seemed new, as Gideon stared wide-eyed toward the darkness surrounding the room, as the sun set behind them. He knew of course, who didn't know in their circle? It was whispered in the Devaux, in the bowling alley. On the streets. No one would fuck with Gideon. He wondered if the rumors were true, that Gideon was taking possession of the Devaux.

Gideon hadn't moved as he stared ahead, taking small sips, his arm still around him, his hand squeezing his shoulder softly.

"Do you think we'll find love again?" Gideon whispered. "The real shit. Not just meaningless sex. But true, honest love?"

He was too sober for this. "Maybe. I don't know if I'll find anyone like Vista."

"Yeah."

The room fell back into the odd silence, both of them sitting together, Gideon's arm around him, staring at the door, as the faint music from outside provided a soundtrack for their thoughts.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to find anyone else. Maybe you only get one love?

"Richie?"

"Yes, Gideon."

"Why is your bathtub filled with bloody water?"

His heart skipped a beat, as bead a sweat dripped down his neck and into his ratty t-shirt. "Like you said, sometimes you just want to disappear."

Gideon looked at him then, his hand squeezing his shoulder harder. "Seriously?"

He shrugged. "I don't lie."

Gideon just nodded weakly, his arm falling away from him only to run his fingers through his hair. Their eyes met, Gideon's shifted from his to his lips, and moved forward excruciatingly slow, the warmth of his breath brushed against the top if his lip. He was frozen in place, his body tensing up, from confusion, fear maybe anticipation? Then abruptly, Gideon crashed their lips together, pulling his body closer to his own. He gasped, Gideon seized upon the opportunity to explore his mouth, his tongue making a map of the inside.

His mind was on autopilot as his hands came to push Gideon off of him. "Gideon, what the fuck?"

"I don't know!" Gideon barked, anger flashing in his baby blues, until it settled back into the eerie nothingness he'd seen in the car. "We both wanna fucking die. I just wanted to feel something you know? I have everything, yet nothing. All I wanted was something real. Just for a minute."

"But I'm not-"

"Me either."

Gideon kept staring at him, his eyes going past him, into an abyss. He'd seen that look. In Vista's eyes. In his own eyes.

He wanted to feel something too.

He knew he owed the man nothing but he too was tired of being alone, and numb.

So he took the thug, the man he feared, the man he worked for, the man who he'd gotten drugs from, and kissed him.

His lips were soft and tasted of vodka, and perhaps peppermint. Gideon took control as he pulled away for a moment to straddle his thighs, abandoning his coffee mug and took either side of his face, and smashed their lips back together again. Vodka pervaded his taste buds again, as Gideon thrust his tongue back inside. It was rough, feeling the man's five o'clock shadow against his own stubble. Fingers wove through his hair, as he felt Gideon's heart race against his own.

He moaned softly into his mouth, bringing his hands up to caress Gideon's thighs, running along his stiff jeans, to his clothed chest. He'd never kissed Vista like this. There was an indescribable amount emotion behind this kiss, it was perfect.

And in that moment he didn't want it to end.

Gideon's lips left his, though they lay seconds away from his own, the man taking deep breaths, feeling his breath tickle his chin- his fingers still threaded through his hair. "I feel fucking alive."

Gideon proceeded to kiss along his jaw, and down his neck, his other hand snaking down his chest and resting on his rising erection. "Me too."

And for the first time, since his adventure with Sophia that night on the streets of New York, he truly meant it.


End file.
